Book 3: Darkness
by infinight888
Summary: Korra's choices at the Harmonic Convergence left Unalaq dead, and Mako as the Dark Avatar. Now, the Krew must hunt him down before he finds the three lost Lion Turtles and becomes a true Avatar. But their path isn't as straightforward as it might seem, as a new enemy comes out of the shadows, willing to destroy both Avatars in order to accomplish its goals.
1. Evil Within Pt 1

**Book 3: Darkness**

**Episode 1: Evil Within**

_Hungry. Tired. Mistake. Mom. Dad. Bolin. Sorry._

The words danced through the young boy's head, but reconciling their meanings had become impossible long ago.

Mako could make out a soft, feminine voice urging him to move, to watch out for his brother.

"_Mom?"_ Mako said in his mind. He thought his lips may have moved as he did, but wasn't sure. If so, there was certainly no voice attached to them.

The child's mother came into vision now. She neither moved, nor spoke. Just a still picture in his mind. _"I'm sorry,"_ the boy said, _"I thought I could protect him. She said that we'd be split up and I made him run."_ Mako wasn't sure if his explanation was making any sense to the mirage, but he no longer cared. Talking to her made him feel safer, somehow, as if everything was going to be okay, even when he knew it wasn't. Even when he knew he was dying.

The image stayed with him for a while, still and unmoving, like a statue. He continued to talk to the phantom until it eventually flickered away, leaving him alone in his mind, once more.

* * *

**. . . . .**

"Hey, Boss. There's two boys over here." Mako heard the voice, but his shut eyelids refused to reveal its owner. At first, Mako thought it another delusion, but this sounded different in a way he couldn't quite understand. Mako tried to call out, but his voice swelled in his throat, and he decided it wasn't worth the effort before drifting away again.

Through his semi-consciousness, he was occasionally aware of hands grabbing him at his sides, of changes in sound and smell, and of changes in the light that managed to make it through the thin layer of skin that covered his eyes. Once, it even crossed his mind that he was being moved, but the thought was lost to him as quickly as it came.

Soon, the light and smells became constant. Over the next stretch of time, he noticed footsteps coming and going. A few times, he could feel hands lifting his head, as a liquid was put to his tips and voices advised him to swallow. He didn't need much encouragement, and swallowed instinctively. The voices would say they were giving him water, but it tasted far better than any he had ever drank, though Mako never exerted any effort in pin-pointing the distinction. After drinking, he would drift off again. Later, they began bringing broth as well. Like with the water, he would swallow instinctively as it entered through his lips, before once again isolating his mind from the world around him.

"The younger one just woke, boss. He said his name's Bolin." Bolin. The name sounded familiar. It took a few moments to place his brother's name in his mind. He woke? Had he been sleeping? If anyone replied to the speaker, Mako couldn't make it out.

Mako, in his dreamstate, began to measure time in terms of how many times the broth was brought to him. For example, between his fourth and fifth feeding, he began to remember him and Bolin being out on the streets, with no food and little water for over a week, finally laying down in an old alleyway, where they went to sleep. A man came in during the sixth feeding, talking about how much Bolin wanted to see him. Between the sixth and seventh feeding, he heard Bolin sobbing nearby and felt a hand holding his own. When he was semi-lucid for the seventh feeding, a single thought glided through his subconscious. That he couldn't leave Bolin alone. Why would Bolin be alone? He still had mom and dad. They could take care of him. Mako saw the image of his mother, once more. So beautiful, with crimson hair and amber eyes. He wanted nothing more than to go to her, and hug her, to be wrapped in her loving embrace once again. He tried to move forward, but his incorporeal form in this dream denied him that. Then, blue light flashed across his vision. The image switched to his mother laying on the ground, her clothes singed where the bolt had pierced her gut. Her husband was beside her, and had suffered much worse burns in the struggle, his face unrecognizable from the burns. Mako tried to scream out, but only managed to choke on the broth that filled his mouth.

Following the choking incident, Mako lost count of his feedings, assuming his count was ever accurate to begin with. His lucid moments became fewer and fewer as the days went by. He occasionally heard others speaking, but translating their words took too much effort on his part. When he awoke from his slumber, he would remember the voices saying that they didn't expect him to make it, even though it didn't register to his brain at the time.

"**Why did you not wake?**" came a deep, guttural voice from within Mako's mind.

The intrusion took Mako by surprise. The voice sounded somehow familiar, but he was incapable of placing it. _"I… I couldn't. I was too weak"_, Mako mentally replied at the creature.

"**That is false. You were improving. Your slumber was your own doing. What I do not understand is why.**"

Mako realized that something was wrong. The coma, it wasn't happening now. It was a memory, or a dream. The eight-year-old who laid in bed, dying, that wasn't him; not anymore, at least. It hadn't been for a decade.

"_I didn't want to face Bolin."_ Mako said after some thought._ "Chief Beifong said that with no living relatives, she would have to find us new families. There were a few foster homes we could stay in, but none were willing to take both of us at the same time. It was my idea to run. I was supposed to be his protector, but my choice almost got him killed. I stopped fighting to stay alive, because I was afraid he would hate me, and I would have lost everyone I loved."_

Mako had never told anyone this, not even Bolin or Korra, and Mako felt like he definitely shouldn't be trusting this information with the creature that now communicated with him. Still, there was something disarming about being within his own mind that made him willing to reveal all of his secrets. The invader didn't respond, although Mako could feel him dissecting the information. Come to think of it, why shouldn't he trust the creature? Maybe it was an ally, or maybe just a delusion or dream of some sort. No. Mako realized neither of those were true the moment they crossed his mind. Whoever this intruder was, he was deadly real and absolutely not a friend. There was something he felt like he should remember, as if it were a shape in the distance that he could make out if he was only a few steps closer.

Mako tried to remember how he gotten here. His life after the coma came to him almost instantaneously. He remembered his training with Zolt, him leaving the Triple Threats for Toza, pro-bending, meeting the avatar, the Equalist rebellion, becoming a police officer, visiting the Southern Water Tribe, the civil war, Varrick, going through the spirit portal… Mako realized exactly his situation, the mystery of the invader solved.

The word slipped from his tongue unconsciously. _"Vaatu."_

Mako awoke.

* * *

_**Author's Note: Warning, the next chapter gets darker, much darker. Continue at your own peril.  
**_

_**Also, if you like this story, review. Actually, review if you don't like it, as well. Some constructive criticism is important to allowing me to improve my writing. Basically, review, please.**_


	2. Evil Within Pt 2

There were few times in her life that Avatar Korra felt complete and total despair as she did in the spirit world on the day of the Harmonic Convergence. The first was when she was nine, and lost herself in a blizzard with Naga. She'd nearly froze to death, and would have, had her father not rescued her the following day. The next time was when Amon had robbed her of her bending, leaving her feeling empty and without purpose, even briefly considering ending her life, so that the world would have a real Avatar to protect it. As she gazed into Mako's orange-glowing eyes, she felt it once more, a cold and empty void, which threatened to devour all hope and joy if she allowed it.

Unalaq's body lay still and empty in the background. Korra's uncle hadn't fallen by her own hand, but he might as well have. Her, Mako and Bolin had simply kept him occupied for enough time that Vaatu's presence ended Unalaq's life for them. A human being is only capable of surviving the stress of being occupied by a spirit for a short amount of time, especially one as powerful as the spirit of all darkness.

After her uncle's death, they seemed to be winning in their struggle against the Dark Spirit for a time. Then, he did something that nobody expected.

A wicked laugh emanated from Mako's body, but with the voice of the creature that now possessed it, rather than Mako's own. "**You care for this vessel.**" It was a statement of fact, rather than a question. "**Surrender, and no harm shall befall it.**"

What Vaatu was asking for was a trade. Her life, for Mako's. She knew immediately that self-sacrifice was not an option here. Surrender would accomplish nothing. Vaatu would plunge the world into ten thousand years of darkness, and would likely not even keep his word on the matter when no one was left to hold him to it. Vaatu had probably guessed that Korra wouldn't agree for those exact reasons, but didn't care. He wanted Mako to die, and for Korra to be responsible. If Korra did nothing, Mako would die from Vaatu's possession, just as Unalaq had. If she attacked, she could end up killing him anyway. There was no way to win, no way to defeat Mako and still stop the spirit of darkness.

And she realized something else, as well. When Mako was dead, Vaatu would just move on to Bolin, and they would repeat the same process all over again.

Mako's brother stood motionless behind Korra. Abruptly Korra turned to face him, a new urgency infusing eyes and voice. "Bolin, go back through the portal, I'll handle him."

"But…" Bolin began to protest when Korra cut him off.

"Now!" She ordered, the risk of taking the time to argue about this was too great to take. He turned to do as the Avatar commanded when Mako outstretched an arm, an azure bolt of electricity darting from his fingertips, shooting within a few inches of Bolin's face.

"**No. You'll stay right where you are**" Vaatu hissed.

"Leave my friends out of this." Korra shouted "This battle is between me and you, Vaatu." Korra knew Vaatu had no intention of leaving Mako's body, nor allowing Bolin to leave, she was just banking on being able to keep him talking long enough for her to come up with a plan. If he attacked, Korra would be put on the defensive, and her concentration would become too focussed on survival, that she wouldn't be able to think rationally enough to figure out a way to save Mako.

"**You brought them to this fight, not I. I will not be the one responsible for their deaths.**" Part of Korra knew he was right. This was meant to be between the two of them. Korra knew the risk of bringing her friends and chose to do so anyway, and Korra's choices to bring Mako and Bolin put them directly in the line of fire.

Mako's eyes flickered to normal, and he went down to one knee, letting out a deafening scream in his own voice, the sounds of his pain emanating through Korra's body, then the orange glow returned. "**You should make your choice now. Your friend doesn't have much time left**"

A plan came to Korra's mind. It was reckless, stupid, and there were a thousand variables that could cause it to go horribly wrong. Korra had no idea how she would handle the aftermath of her actions, here, but as she stood at the crossroads, there was only one path she could see that ended with Mako in it. "Forgive me" she whispered, not sure if to Mako, herself, or somebody else entirely.

"If I do this," Korra asked the enemy that now wore her friend as a suit, "you promise not to harm Mako?"

There, as brief as a second, as Korra's words were processed by Vaatu's mind, as he attempted to detect some type of trick in the Avatar's voice, he let down his guard just enough. Korra's eyes lit white, the power of the Avatar State, Raava's power, surging through her. She lunged her fist forward, praying to the spirits that her aim would be true, that nothing would go wrong with her assault, then became aware of the irony of doing so in this situation. The gust of wind which shot from her fist was too fast for Vaatu to dodge, too powerful for him to escape once it enveloped him. It carried him away, furious and inescapable, slamming him into the pillar of light which emerged from the North Pole, permanently infusing his soul with that of Mako's.

**. . . . .**

Korra stood at the edge of a balcony in the ice palace of the Northern Water Tribe, staring off into the distance. It had been four days since she stood at the crossroads. It had been four days since she had cursed her friend to live a prisoner within his own body.

When Korra returned to the North Pole, she announced that her uncle, Unalaq, was dead. That he was killed by the Dark Spirit he attempted to summon. She made a speech to all of the Northerners, and broadcast it on international radio. She told them that the spirit escaped in the body of one of her allies, a Republic City detective named Mako. She described him, so that anyone, anywhere, who laid eyes on him, would be able to report it to her. She did not reveal her part in Vaatu's escape, hardly able to face it herself.

"My uncle was right about one thing." She had said in her address. "The Water Tribes cannot afford to be divided during this time of chaos. I give command of both Water Tribes to Tonraq, the rightful heir to the throne." She had then beckoned to her father to come up. It was a dangerous move on her part. It wasn't uncommon for Avatars to overthrow governments if they felt it necessary to keep balance, though it hadn't happened since Avatar Aang did it at the end of The Hundred Year War. However, making their own family part of a ruling body, even if it was their birthright, as was the case of Korra's father, was virtually unprecedented in the ten thousand years of Avatars. Korra had no doubt that there would be people who viewed this as a power grab by the Avatar. She supposed they weren't entirely wrong. Finding Vaatu was all that mattered to her. To do that, she needed yes men in charge of the nations. She needed people that were willing to lend whatever resources they had to her cause, if she was going to stand any chance of defeating the Dark Avatar. Having the Northern tribe controlled by somebody sympathetic to Unalaq was not something the Avatar could risk.

Under different circumstances, she guessed that she would have allowed the Water Tribes to be divided, just as they had been during the Hundred Year War. All the Southerners wanted was their independence, after all. Her father would have preferred that as well, but Korra insisted that him taking charge of both tribes was the only way to be sure they could put a stop to the civil war. She knew deep down that it was a lie, that the North wouldn't go against the Avatar's wishes after their leader was killed. But she had told the lie, regardless, because the ends she sought was more important to the larger picture than the means she used to get there.

Korra had sent messages to President Raiko, the Fire Lord and Earth Queen, asking them to alert her if anyone found Mako and Vaatu. Their reward for doing so was that the Avatar would owe them a personal favor, something far more valuable than any amount of silver or gold. The same deal was made for any lion turtles that popped up. Neither had been found as of yet.

Korra had spoken to Raava in the Spirit Oasis immediately after her address. The Light Spirit believed that Vaatu would seek out the lion turtles of earth, water and air, creatures that nobody had even laid eyes on in centuries, that most believed were extinct. When he found them, he would be a full Avatar. He would become her equal.

No. He would become her better.

Korra remembered Mako's skill at firebending, his ability to call lighting to his fingertips almost instantaneously. She had never seen anyone capable of doing that before him. Once, Korra asked him about it, during the months between the Equalist rebellion and the civil war. He told her of his training with the leader of the Triple Threats, Lightning Bolt Zolt, as they called him. It had always made her sick to think of him as a member of that Triad, but recalling it now, she felt nothing. Perhaps she was already thinking of Mako as an enemy, after only a few days.

Maybe that was for the best. It would make it that much easier, when the time came, to kill him.

Korra's thoughts were interrupted. "Enjoying the view?" Korra recognized Tenzin's voice immediately.

"I've never seen anything like it." She responded, pulling her attention away from her thoughts and directing it at the city in front of her. It was the truth, even if she had been too caught up in her own world of constantly second-guessing herself, constantly reliving what was already done and over with and constantly worrying over the possible futures that were to come, to really pay attention to the beauty right in front of her.

Before her, lay the Northern Water Tribe. The light provided by the setting sun glinted off of the crystalline structures of the icy city into a plethora of colors, while the Northern Lights painted lines of turquoise over the deep purple sky. Beyond, lay the ocean, water spread out for what seemed like infinity, reflecting and distorting the shades and hues of the night sky above.

Kora had always wished she could visit their sister tribe. Until learning of her father's banishment, it had never been clear to her why they didn't. Of course, Korra wanted to visit a lot of places in her youth. An Avatar was meant to travel the world, to track down the most powerful benders in existence, and learn the elements from them. Instead, Tenzin and her father had locked her away in the Southern Water Tribe, telling her that it was by the command of her predecessor, Avatar Aang. It was her destiny, stolen from her. Perhaps had she been trained like a proper Avatar, she would have been strong enough to beat Amon without losing her bending in the process. Maybe she would have even been able to defeat Vaatu without paying the price she did.

Or maybe she wouldn't have come as far as she had, and Vaatu would have killed her. It was silly to blame others for her own failings, and pointless to hold grudges against the people she cared about, for possible futures that may or may not have been brought about by their past actions. Sometimes you needed to let the past stay in the past. She didn't think she could ever truly forgive Tenzin or her father for doing what they did, but she could allow herself to move past it.

It was a while before Tenzin broke their silence. "So, how's the training, Master Korra?" He asked, a bit of irony in voice.

"Better than expected. Most of them are already more talented in waterbending than me, and they're quick learners." Following the Harmonic Convergence, her father had asked her to train a special group of waterbenders in Unalaq's special techniques. Spiritbending, as Bolin had taken to calling it. Following her uncle's death, the Avatar was the last person in the world who ever used them. She had only agreed under the condition that the Water Tribes would send three of every four Spiritbenders trained by them to help the other nations. Dark spirits had been attacking globally, and the world couldn't afford for a single nation to hoard the knowledge necessary to defend themselves.

"Is that humility, I hear? From Korra? The same girl I taught to airbend, last year?" Her master chuckled.

"Yeah, joke all you want." Korra rolled her eyes.

In truth, the Avatar felt as if the girl she had been had slowly been withering away throughout the civil war. The final piece of her finally died with the boy she loved. She had lost too much, seen too much bloodshed, to not have been forever changed.

Tenzin put a hand on the young Avatar's shoulder. "I'm proud of you, Korra."

The young Avatar allowed herself to smile at her master, but whatever Korra was going to say in response was cut off before she could. "Princess Korra?"

Korra turned and scowled at the intruder. He was scrawny and awkward, wearing Water Tribe clothing, likely a messenger of some sort. "Avatar Korra." She corrected, annoyedly.

The man shifted uncomfortably, clearly caught off guard by her response. "Um, uh, forgive me Princess, Avatar Korra." The Northerner attempted to regain his composure.

She sighed, but chose not to pursue the matter of her title any further. It may have seemed like a minuscule complaint to another, but it was important nonetheless. An Avatar had to remain neutral and objective. They should not favor their own nations, or settlements over those of others, nor could they favor benders over nonbenders. It was important to the position of Avatar that the Avatar be regarded as the protector of all nations and all peoples, and to do that, they couldn't be regarded as the princess of the Water Tribes.

"Yes." She said impatiently.

"Uh… Chief Tonraq and your mother would like to speak with you."

**. . . . .**

Mako awoke within his mobile prison cells. The first, being his body that the spirit of darkness had claimed as its own, four days earlier. The second was the four metal walls on all sides of him that made any form of escape impossible, as a vehicle drove them to where they would likely be brought directly to the Avatar.

The first thing Mako became aware of was the unmistakable stench of oil, raunchy, bitter and suffocating. He looked around the confined space that housed him, seeing that the thick black liquid covered the entire cage. He guessed it was an inch or two deep when on level ground, but the vehicle's constant motion made it impossible to tell for sure. When he pulled himself to a standing position, he became aware that the oil had soaked through his clothes, as well.

Mako cursed under his breath. It was a cruel irony that the first time he was allowed control of his actions was in four days was in this prison.

_**An interesting little cage they made for us.**_ Vaatu said from within Mako's mind.

Mako wondered how much the spirit had observed. "On the streets, we called it a Frying Pan." Mako informed him. "It's designed to capture and hold firebenders, especially powerful ones. Any attempt to blast through or melt the steel will ignite the oil on the floor as well as our clothes, cooking us alive." The dark spirit was intelligent. Mako figured he was just confirming the other's suspicions about the deathtrap. Still, he would prefer not to take the chance that Vaatu would overtake him and open up a barrage of fire upon the walls, ending both of their lives in the process. "Even if we did somehow manage to escape," Mako added as an afterthought "we're in no condition to fight our captors."

In the days following the Harmonic Convergence, The Dark spirit fled the North Pole, using Mako's upgraded firebending to fly to the Earth Kingdom, and began his hunt for the Lion Turtles, not stopping to rest, eat or drink in all that time. Eventually, the sleep deprivation was what caught up to them. Blacking out on the side of the road was the last thing Mako remembered.

_**We're stronger than they are.**_

"No, we're not! You're in a human body, now. We have all the limitations of a human, we're starved and dehydrated, and the only sleep we got was when we finally fainted, and look at where that got us!" Mako realized he was shouting at the spirit, now, but he didn't care. "You're not in a Spirit form anymore. You aren't invincible. If you continue acting like you are, we're both going to end up dead."

_**And what would be your plan then, human?**_ Mako heard rage and vitriol in the spirit's voice, but also some measure of understanding. Mako felt that his words got through to it, somehow.

Mako glanced around. In front of him was the steel door. Airtight and as heavily armored as the walls. He was sure that with Vaatu's power, he could burn through them with little effort if he needed to, but a single stray spark would ignite the oil at the floor, turning the cage into a fire pit. Mako had heard that the Avatar could tap into all of the knowledge of past Avatars while in the Avatar State. Had he been a real Avatar, that level of control might have allowed him to melt through the walls without letting a single spark touch the oil. What Vaatu offered was not control,

as the Avatars possessed, but power, raw and unrefined, and Mako would have to use what he had at his disposal.

Above, where moonlight shone into his prison, steel bars made up the roof of his cell, spaced just enough apart to deny escape to its captives. They served as ventilation, he knew, preventing people from dying from the rancid fumes of the black liquid at his feet. If he could destroy even one, he could jump upward and escape through the opening which would be left in its wake, but like with the walls, he would burn himself to death in the process.

They could also be used as handholds. The idea came to him suddenly. He could use them to raise his body high enough off the ground that the fire couldn't get to him immediately, but if he did, it would only protect him for a few seconds before the flames would consume him anyway.

There was another issue, though. Once they escaped, more men would be after them in no time. Surviving a fight with these bounty hunters in this condition would be difficult. Escaping those that followed them afterwards, unthinkable. It would likely be several more days before he got a chance to rest again. His hunger and thirst would have to be handled later, but he couldn't risk fainting from sleep deprivation and ending up in the same position he was in now. When the time came to run, they needed to be fully rested, and ready for pursuit

Mako began removing his shirt and scarf, hoping to make himself slightly less flammable, and cast them to the floor.

"We rest, for now." Mako announced. "Then, we break free."

**. . . . .**

Three guards sat watch in an ancient forest at the open Spirit Portal in the Northern Water Tribe. The creature felt their breath on the air as soon as it stepped through. Once, he had been human. In body and genes, one could argue that he still was. He had lived for thousands of years, though, within the realm of that accursed spirit, waiting and training for the day he could finally be free of him. During that time, he had learned more and seen more than any normal human could ever imagine, ever comprehend. He had evolved beyond what he once was, into something that was not entirely human, but not spirit, either. A force of nature.

The Northerners took note of him almost immediately. Skin covered where the creature's eyes and mouth should be, and there was no evidence a nose ever even existed. He was, in the truest way, a faceless man. Nearly as bizarre, he was bald and covered in red arrows, branded into his skin. Each arrow had followed the same pattern as that of the Airbenders. He wore no shirt, revealing rippling muscles, from his slender form. The only clothes he wore at all, were leggings that stretched to his ankles, colored black as pitch.

While the waterbenders were attempting to make sense of the being that now stood before them, the creature's fists shot forth in rapid succession. Right, left, then right again. Each punch shot a powerful blast of air at one of the guards, and each guard was swept off their feet in an instant. The first's head collided with a tree. Both his neck and the tree snapped instantaneously upon impact. The other two were laying on the ground, defenseless.

The second Northerner attempted to rise, but the faceless man was on him in a moment. He slammed his fist into the Guard's face, the full force of the wind behind it, sending him sprawling back down into the snow.

The creature glanced over to where the third guard had been laying. He was gone. He would contact the Avatar, and call her to this place. Good. He was hoping for a challenge.

The airbender's gaze returned to the man at his feet. He was unconscious, but still breathing. He was stronger than most, who would have died on the impact of such a powerful blow. It was surprising, but didn't matter.

The man was of no importance, his life irrelevant to the creature who had outlived so many, had existed as kingdoms rose and fell throughout the centuries. The creature had more important concerns. He would have to put on his best face for when the Avatar arrived.

He unsheathed a small blade from his waist, and stabbed it into the heart of the surviving Northerner. The creature brought the blade up to the front of his own head, using the flat of the cold steel to smear his victim's blood in an inverted arch, where his lips had once been, so as to form a wicked smile. A second time, he jabbed the knife blade into the man, this time, using the red liquid to draw eyes upon himself, sharp diagonal lines of blood.

This would have to do, for now.


	3. Evil Within Pt 3

The hooded man chased the girl down the metallic halls. He moved slowly, but purposefully. They were surrounded by a thick fog that obscured the hallway's end, assuming one even existed. She knew she would never find out. The girl tripped, just as she knew she would, just as she had done so many times before. She turned to her pursuer, to see the face of the man that followed her before she was finished. He appeared old and shriveled, but also tall and stern. Most of his features were obstructed by the ebony cloak about his head. If she was to guess at what Death would look like incarnated into a physical form, it would be the man that stood in front of her. He smiled wickedly at her. Everything she seen had happened before. Then, the wolf howled.

Jinora woke up panting, sweat pouring down her face, just as she had every night since the Harmonic Convergence. She had hoped that the nightmares would lessen, maybe even cease altogether, if she just remained in the physical world long enough, but they hadn't. They persisted, day after day. She had escaped the Fog of Lost Souls, but returned there every night as she slept.

In reality, she had spent only a couple days in the fog, but it had felt like weeks, maybe even months, to her. The Fog was spirit that presented the deepest fears of its victims to them, one after another, an infinite stream of nightmares and horrors, slowly wearing away at one's soul, driving them mad. Jinora had been rescued by her father before that came to pass, but she wasn't far from it.

Jinora took several deep, calming breaths to steady herself, before pulling herself off her bed and to a standing position. She couldn't go back to sleep, not now, not with the nightmares that she knew would be waiting for her when she closed her eyes again. She needed some fresh air, even the icy air of the Southern Water Tribe would do.

Sneaking out was easy enough. Everyone else was fast asleep. She slipped into some warmer clothes, then headed out the door without anyone being the wiser. She knew her grandmother would have disapproved of her going out alone at night, especially while she was still recovering from her ordeal, so she didn't give her grandmother the chance to object.

Katara's home was located right on the edge of town. Turn left from her doorway, and you go straight into the cityscape. Turn right, and you go through the flowing hills of ivory snow of the South Pole. Jinora chose the latter path tonight and walked out into the snowy expanse. The night sky was clear of clouds, fully exposing the stars that pin-dotted its veil, as well as the aurora of the Northern Lights. No. Southern Lights, she corrected, still getting use to the concept.

It didn't take long for the chill of the winter air to begin nipping at her flesh, a contradictory feeling that was simultaneously numbing and painful. She could handle the cold, though. She had experienced much worse.

Since it was incapable of causing physical pain to its victims, the Fog of Lost Souls functioned by inducing loss, heartache and pure terror. If there was a fear of the future, it would come to pass within the Fog. If there was a horrible moment you remembered, you relived it over and over again, each time becoming more twisted than the last.

Once, she was given a glimpse of the ten thousand years of darkness her actions helped to bring about. She was chased through the ruins of Republic City by dark spirits, giving her a good look at the destruction and havoc Vaatu would wreak upon the world. The ghosts of her family walked beside her in this nightmare, reminding her that it was her fault that Vaatu was allowed to break free from the Tree of Time, scolding her for her failures.

And she couldn't shake the feeling that they were right. She should have stayed with Korra. Things would have turned out differently had she. It was her job, her duty, to protect the Avatar in the Spirit World.

Jinora still wondered how much the people around her blamed her for. Vaatu and Raava were at a stand off right now. There was no ten thousand years of darkness, but neither were there ten thousand years of light. Their fate was undetermined, leaving the world hanging in a state of limbo, until the inevitable moment when either Raava or Vaatu were dead. The fact that Vaatu hadn't yet won didn't mean that a price had not been exacted against them, though. Mako was Vaatu's new vessel, and she didn't think there was any way to free him of the spirit's possession.

She knew her father well enough to know that he wouldn't hold her responsible for what happened. He would shift the blame from her, onto himself. He would feel like he somehow let her down by allowing her to try to help Korra. He would blame himself for her being trapped in the Fog, for Unalaq using her as leverage against Korra. That realization actually made her feel worse, rather than better. At least if he did blame her for her own mistakes, it would be deserved.

She didn't know about Korra. Jinora hadn't seen or talked to the Avatar since they split up. _You should have closed the portal and left. You should have let me die._

When Jinora learned that she would be the one who would have to lead the Avatar into the spirit world, she felt like she had a real destiny for the first time in her life, as if she was going to accomplish something much greater than herself. Growing up, she always heard stories of her grandparents' adventures, and always wished she could go on a journey of her own someday. Going to the Spirit World was her one chance to prove herself.

When she returned to her body, her sense of destiny was gone. All that was left was despair and regret. Her family expected her to be the same girl who left them, Ikki and Meeko especially, but she wasn't, she couldn't be. The betrayal of Wan-Shi-Tong, her near death at Unalaq's hand, her complete uselessness against Vaatu and ultimately, the persisting nightmares of the Fog of Lost Souls was all too much for her to go through and still remain the same person. Although she may have returned from the Spirit World, she could feel in her heart that the experience had changed her irrevocably.

She wasn't sure how long she had traveled when she heard it again, only that her grandmother's house was far out of view, and the icy chill of the South Pole night had sunk deep within her bones. The sound was loud and piercing and unmistakable as anything other than the howl of a wolf.

It was identical to the howl that had woke her.

She had first thought the wolf's howl was part of her dream, but maybe it was from the outside, maybe it had been what woke her. The wolf let out another howl. Jinora noticed this time that it was weaker than she first thought. It lacked the strength and pride of an ordinary wolf. It was as if it was hurt.

She knew that she should turn back now. She knew that a wounded animal could be even more vicious than a healthy one. And the moment she took her first step toward the howling creature, she knew instinctively that, illogical as it was, she had made the right decision.

The wolf continued to howl, and Jinora trudged through the snow and ice towards its voice. Each howl called to her to come closer to the creature, to find it, wherever it was, leading her onward like a siren's song.

The closer she came to the creature, the quieter its cries became, almost as if it could sense her approach, as crazy as it might be. Or, maybe it wasn't crazy at all. Jinora could feel the creature's presence now, stronger and stronger as she approached. It was an unmistakable feeling. The creature was a spirit. Its howl had woken her from her slumber. It had been deliberate. The creature didn't just need help. It needed _her_ help.

The girl did not discount the possibility that this could just as easily be a trap of some kind, but to what end? It wasn't as if she currently was of any use to the Avatar, who could go between worlds via the Spirit Portals. If somebody wanted to capture her and use her for leverage as Unalaq had done, wouldn't they use someone closer to the Avatar?

The sound led to the top of one of the rolling hills. There, she saw it. The creature before her lay on its side, unable to move. It was like nothing she had ever seen before, its fur white as the snow it lay upon. It had the head and body of a wolf, except the two were connected by a thin neck that stretched upward, or would if it was standing up right, about a foot and it had a small, white-feathered wing at each side that she was sure couldn't possibly be strong enough to fly the creature anywhere

"A Swanwolf?" Jinora whispered, mostly to herself, examining this new creature.

There was something else, though. It was thin, deathly thin. So much so that she could see the Spirit's ribs, something she previously wasn't even sure if Spirits had, through its skin. Jinora then noticed the feathers laying on the ground around the Swanwolf, which she had previously missed because of how well they blended with the surrounding snow. She was right, she realized, the spirit was dying, and it needed her help.

**. . . . .**

"Strike it faster! You're slowing down, kid!" Zolt called out at the boy.

Mako redoubled his efforts. The boy stood several paces back from a charred punching bag, hurling lightning bolt after lightning bolt at it, as he had for hours now.

Mako had awoken from his coma several months ago. The majority of his saviors, who he now knew to be the Triple Threat Triad, were thrilled to have him awake. A few seemed angry and bitter toward him at first, but came around. Shady Shen mentioned something about them losing money in a pool. Mako didn't know what he was talking about, but didn't pursue it. Once Mako was fully recovered, Zolt came to him with his offer. Mako and his brother join the Threats, doing a little janitorial work and the like around their HQ, as well as some accounting, and they were allowed to stay there. Eventually, they'd be expected to do field work, but not until they were old enough to survive it. Alternatively, the two of them could leave and take their chances with the streets again. If they did, Zolt made it clear that his crew would not save the boys again, but also that they would not bring harm to the boys for refusing his offer. Lightning Bolt Zolt was a lot of things, the vast majority of which were no good, but he wasn't a child killer.

Mako and Bolin made the choice to stay, together. Over the following months, they were worked relentlessly and trained even more so, but it didn't matter. They had found a home. They had found a family.

Lightning Bolt Zolt had insisted on being Mako's personal firebending tutor. Zolt spent the first couple months just trying to teach the kid basic lightningbending. After Mako learned that, it became about quickness. He focussed on teaching Mako how to exchange lethality for speed. Normally, when a firebender began summoning lightning, they would allow the maximum amount of energy to fill their bodies, before releasing it into one powerful burst that was very likely to kill anything in its wake, and incapacitate what it didn't. Once the energy started building, it took effort to cut the flow off before it was finished. That it was even possible at all wasn't common knowledge among firebenders yet.

"That's enough for now, kid. Let's take a break." Zolt said after a while. Mako was relieved, but didn't show it. His arms were sore, he was panting heavily, and the constant lighningbending left his insides feeling as if they were on fire. Zolt sat down on a nearby bench, and the boy followed in suit. "One bolt per 1.6 seconds, I think that's a new record." Zolt said, patting Mako on the back as he did. The eight-year-old beamed back in return.

It wasn't as good as he would have liked, and was really only better by a tenth of a second than his previous record, but the boy was proud of his accomplishment nonetheless. Zolt had told him once that his own record was one bolt per 0.9 seconds, as a result, the boy had set his goal to be 0.8 seconds, though he never mentioned this to his master. This achievement, while small, brought him one small step closer to his goal.

Something had been nagging at him, though, something he was afraid of questioning, but also felt that he couldn't avoid any longer. Mako opened his mouth and attempted to speak, only realizing how dry he was from the training after his voice caught in his throat.

The boy reached down and grabbed a small bottle of water, two thirds-filled, at the side of the bench, then lifted the bottle to his lips. Mako chugged it down; In an instant, the water was gone, and Mako still thirsty, although he thought he could at least speak now.

"Why are you teaching me how to bend?" The boy asked with genuine curiosity.

"Because I'm your trainer." The triad leader replied, as if it was a perfectly valid explanation.

The boy gave his master an incredulous look. "You know what I mean. Out of all the Threats, new and old, I've never seen you training anyone else. Just me. There are plenty of others who could teach me to firebend. Why you?" Nobody else would have been that direct with the crime lord, even the highest up in the Triad, but Mako didn't fear his master like the others did.

"Are you asking for another firebending teacher?"

"No! Absolutely not." Mako blurted out without thinking. "I just wanted to know what you see in me."

Zolt considered the boy for a long moment, contemplating on whether or not he should reveal something to him. "It's your eyes." Zolt said finally.

"What?" Mako asked, perplexed by the response.

"Your eyes. I see something there, every time I look at them. Anger, resentment, hatred, all repressed, but still visible to those that know what to look for. I've seen it before, years ago. Every time I looked in the mirror." Mako looked at Zolt's eyes now, trying to find something of what the crime boss spoke of, but what he saw surprised him even more. Pain. There were no tears, but there didn't need to be any.

"You lost someone, too." It was a statement of fact rather than a question.

"It was a full moon when the Red Monsoons attacked. They stuck one of our warehouses, killing everyone in sight. During the full moon, waterbenders have the ability to bend the very blood in our veins, and the Red Monsoons love it. For many of them, it's practically an addiction. They enjoy the power it gives them to hold another's life in their hands. We only survived that night because we outnumbered them and had the advantage of being in a familiar location." Mako had heard the stories of the bloodbending gang, their old leader, Yakone, in particular, who they claimed could bloodbend any time of the month. Mako had partially thought the other Threats were trying to frighten him, but he knew now, looking into Zolt's eyes, exactly how real they were. "We survived the onslaught, but it was just a distraction. They kept me busy while another group went to my house, to kill my wife and son."

"What happened to them? The ones who…" Mako trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence, as if speaking it could somehow make it more real than it already was.

Lightning Bolt Zolt smiled, but with the pain still evident in the crime lord's eyes. "I tracked them down, one by one, and put a lightning bolt through their chests." Zolt paused for a long time, allowing Mako time to think over the information he was given. Mako never knew that Lightning Bolt Zolt ever had a family, although, now that he had thought of it, he could picture him as a father very easily. "That's why I wanted to train you, kid. I want to help you get the same closure I got."

"You want me to take revenge on the one responsible for killing my parents?" Mako asked, already anticipating the answer.

"What I want you to do doesn't matter. What matters is what you want to do."

The boy looked down, lost in thought. He remembered the bolt shooting through his mother's gut, the electricity surging through her. He remembered her blood coating the cement where she lay. Then, suddenly, the scene was reversed. The lightning bolt shot through the murderer, instead. It was his body laying on the ground. Above him, stood the eight-year-old Mako, fingers outstretched from where the electricity shot from his fingertips.

"I want to kill him." The boy said at last. "I want to make him die for what he did to my family."

Zolt smiled again. "Good. Let's make that happen, then."

"_**You seemed like such a good match. Makes me wonder why you ever left.**_" At the sound of Vaatu's taunting voice, the memory seemed to shift. In an instant, Mako's body aged ten years, and Zolt's figure froze in place, as if it were carved from wax.

Mako shook his head in his newly found lucidity, trying to get the sleep out of his eyes, an effort he figured out in the next moment was futile while he was still dreaming. No, not dreaming, he now realized. Remembering. He hadn't been sure the last time, but now he was positive. This dream was different than any he ever experienced before. It was a perfect reconstruction of a memory from Mako's childhood. "You're controlling my dreams. What are you after?" Mako glanced from side to side, expecting Vaatu to manifest himself in this dream world. He didn't.

The spirit of darkness laughed, deep and guttural. "_**Simply some entertainment. I spent Thousands of years locked away within a tree. If I must be imprisoned again within your mind while you rest, then I should at least be able to make it interesting.**_"

Mako could hear the lies and deceit oozing from the other's words. There was something more to it than just the spirit's amusement, but he couldn't figure it out. Why had the spirit chosen this specific memory? Why the last one? Did it need know something about the triads? Mako knew immediately that the Spirit of Darkness would give him nothing, no matter how many times he asked.

Perhaps he didn't need Vaatu to give the information up willingly at all. If Vaatu was capable of reading Mako's mind, then perhaps the relationship was symmetrical.

Mako reached out with his mind, searching for whatever the spirit hid from him. He had no idea what he was doing, but it worked, somehow. He could feel Vaatu's presence within him, dark and corrupting. All he had to do was reach…

"_**No!**_" Vaatu shrieked, as searing pain raced through Mako's mind and body. Mako screamed, but pushed through the other's mental barriers, still. Images rushed passed him, flooding his field of vision; most were unfamiliar but he recognized some as being of Raava. Mako willed the images to go further into the future. Now he seen Unalaq, Korra, Jinora, Bolin and himself. He was getting closer, he knew, but the pain still lashed out at him. He had trouble holding on to his own thoughts now, as if a thick cloud of smoke had enveloped his mind. The next wave of images flooded in, this time, all taking place within the last couple days. He was so close. It was as if he could just reach out and touch it. But what was it? He couldn't remember what he was searching for. And it hurt so much.

Whatever it was, it couldn't be this important. Mako let go of Vaatu's thoughts. The last ten years vanished, suffocated by the smoke that clogged his mind. He was a child again. From there, the memory played out exactly as it had happened.

Lightning Bolt Zolt and the eight-year-old Mako stood as one, master and student. Mako returned to his position in front of the punching bag, and began striking it again with the electrical attacks, this time, picturing the bolt piercing through the man that murdered his mother and father. When he was done, Lightning Bolt Zolt would tell him that he averaged one bolt every 1.5 seconds, but he wouldn't care this time. He had a new goal now.


End file.
